


Counterpoint

by makesometime



Category: Terra Nova (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-show, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>coun·ter·point</b>  (koun-ter-point) <i><b>n.</b></i><br/><i>The technique of combining two or more melodic lines in such a way that they establish a harmonic relationship while retaining their linear individuality.</i></p>
<p>The story of Alicia Washington's life in music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counterpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Written as birthday fic for scarletalpha at livejournal.

**Chord**

_2135_

Alicia is making her way through the Taylor homestead when she hears the first strains of the piano. Assuming it's Lucas she simply smiles, doesn't veer from her intended path. Until she realises. Lucas may be a genius child, almost _too_ smart, but he's only just started learning - there's no way he could play this well already.

She changes her location to the small alcove where the family keeps their baby grand (an affectation she knows her commanding officer does not like, knows he tolerates for the enjoyment it brings his family) and finds not Lucas but Ayani. The older woman's fingers are masterfully passing over the keys, lost in the musical beauty that she is crafting.

Alicia leans in a doorway across the hall from her friend and simply watches as she makes her way through the piece (something beautiful that Alicia has no hope of identifying). Only when the final note rings through the house does Ayani look up, smiling bashfully when she spots her audience. Her cheeks flushed, she laughs, beckons Alicia closer. 

"Is there anything you can't do?" The younger woman asks, seating herself next to her friend.

Ayani shrugs, smile tugging at her lips as she attempts to reply seriously. "For all your and Nathaniel's efforts, I still can't tie a good knot."

Alicia chuckles, can't help the way her fingers reach out to smooth over the ivory keys. "My mother used to play. I didn't ever want to learn, though she tried to encourage me... I regret that, a little."

Ayani smiles, reaches out to tuck hair back behind Alicia's ear. "Would you like me to teach you?" She asks, hand curving tenderly around the base of the younger woman's skull.

Hesitantly Alicia nods, bringing a bright smile to her friend's face. And while she's hardly a natural, she's good with her hands and picks up the basics with little difficulty; the years of watching her mother appear to have stuck in her head after all. And neither of them notice Nathaniel watching as Alicia shakily makes it through the beginning of something Ayani assures her is by Beethoven, until their matching pleasure at her accomplishment is met with his applause.

She doesn't feel particularly worthy of the way the two of them are looking at her, but for the first time Alicia does sense the lingering pain of her mother's death start to ease away. She will always feel like she didn't spend enough time with her, but at least now it seems like... she has done something to make her proud.

~

_2159_

Bethany is the granddaughter Alicia thinks her mother would have loved. She's smart, funny, stubborn, creative, adventurous. And yet, with it all, has a fondness for the feminine things that Alicia herself has never showed interest in (and she is never more grateful for her friendship with Elisabeth as a result).

There's been something on her daughter's mind now for several days, Alicia can read her like an open book. But she also knows from experience that the stubborn streak will rail against any attempt she makes to question her over it – she will have to wait to be told, trust in the fact that Bethany is only working out the best way to bring it up, plotting and strategising with all of the combination of military genes she possesses.

"Mama?" She finally asks one evening, settling herself at the kitchen counter and starting to help chop vegetables.

Alicia smiles at her daughter's activity – the girl is never this willing to help out, is no doubt mere moments away from asking for something she doesn't expect to get. "Yes B?"

"You know how Josh Shannon has his guitar?" She starts, her careful concentration while wielding the knife meaning her words come out with a perfect air of detachment she would probably have failed to fake. "Do you think I could have one?"

Alicia respects her daughter's choice not to dance around the subject but the question still takes her a little by surprise. She flashes back to the days of her youth, her time at the Taylor homestead; moments when her life was filled with music. Her body thrums with pleasant nostalgia, distracting her to the point that she almost misses the curious concern in Bethany's gaze.

"Let me talk to your Dad." She says eventually, the look on her daughter's face suggesting that's not quite the answer she was hoping for, but equally isn't the end of the world either.

Later that evening, curled up on the couch with her husband, Alicia decides to broach the subject before his hands get any more adventurous.

"Bethie wants a guitar." She says quietly, sipping her wine.

He laughs. "Does she now?"

Alicia nods, leans further into him. "I think it's a good idea."

"You do?" Nathaniel asks looking down at her with interest. He must read something in her gaze, her desire to fill their home with music in the way she used to have, the way Lucas grew up with. "I suppose we'll have to see what we can do."

Alicia smiles, leans up to kiss him tenderly. "I know we're limited in the instruments we have here, we're never gonna get a piano. But a guitar is a good substitute."

Bethany's face when they present her with her gift a few short weeks later is enough to erase any doubt that dare linger. While it's not perhaps the smoothest learning process, the music that fills their house not _quite_ as in tune, as easy as they hope for at first, she learns.

And in time it's almost like the old days again.

**Prelude**

_2141_

Commander Nathaniel Taylor. She has to admit, it has a nice ring. The first time she greets him by his new rank they're both left smiling broadly – him with pride, her with pleasure at how well the word rolls off her tongue .

The entire unit has suspected his promotion as due, once they found out about Terra Nova. Can't very well have the leader of such an important expedition be any lesser rank. But that doesn't lessen their excitement, their happiness and, most importantly, their desire to celebrate.

So it's out to one of the dome's drinking establishments they go, an Irish pub that serves proper liquor. Alicia buys him a Guinness just to see his face when he drinks it, lets him lead her over to a table as he tries to figure out its flavour. (Figures he likes it – she _knew_ he would – when he orders another when she's only halfway through her whiskey.)

The night progresses with ease, though their first time out as a team in _far_ too long could never have gone any other way. Along the way the background music turns into something tangible, a band setting themselves up in one corner of the place and weaving classic tunes with their authentic instruments. 

It's somewhere around their fifth round when the sole Chicago native in the squad pushes his way through the crowd and asks if he can join in. The resulting piece he plays on the fiddle is astounding; fast-paced and complicated and far more accomplished than a man at least five beers down should be able to manage. He entrances the entire pub (including the band) with his music and Alicia finds her foot tapping in time with the rhythm easily.

He's reaching the crescendo, playing up to his audience when Nathaniel's arm comes around her, pulling her close enough for her to feel his rumbling laughter vibrate through her own body. She smiles at him briefly but doesn't say anything, knows that he might well not even be aware of his actions. But when the song finishes and his arm remains even as he raises his glass and cheers, she realises he's perfectly clear on what he did.

None of the squad say anything, don’t even spare them a second glance – she's not stupid enough to think they haven't picked up on the way her and Nathaniel's relationship is twisting, changing, growing into something new; knows well enough that they wouldn't give a damn if they went all the way and would guard their secret to the death, simply wanting them both to be happy again after too long.

And so it is. His arm stays around her for the rest of the evening. And while it's not exactly an invitation to his bed, she takes it as he means it; a testing of the water, a question. She might not have an answer yet, but whatever she indicates by remaining in his embrace is clearly a good starting point.

~

_2141_

A month after their visit to the bar and the squad are out once again, this time for her birthday. It's getting closer and closer to the day of reckoning so really any excuse will do – today it just happens to be her. They don't even bother to ask where she wants to go, just drag her to a bar in town where the lights are sparse, the alcohol is cheap and the music is _loud_.

She shoots Nathaniel a pleading glance as they pull her over to the dancefloor but he just smiles, holds up his hands and retreats to a secluded table to wait out his men.

Drink after drink is pressed into her hand, each one easing the way to forgetting herself, allowing some relaxation. She stops fighting the guys trying to get her to dance, enjoys the music, enjoys the company. When the familiar beat of one of her favourite songs starts up she smiles to herself and moves easily to the rhythm.

When the arms come around her waist it's instinctive to freeze – it's not the first time someone's tried something on with her tonight – but when she looks down she recognises the calloused palms pressed to the black material of her tank over her stomach. Her lips quirk into something like a smirk when he doesn't say anything, simply tightens the grip of his fingers, urges her to move. 

A hand comes up to sweep her hair to one side, exposing her skin to the breath of the man behind her. His palm flattens over her stomach once more as his lips meet the curve of her shoulder, beard scratching lightly, teasing.

Taylor's - no, _the man's_ , it'll do no good to make more of this than there is - hands slide down to the press against the fronts of her hips, pulling her back firmly into his waiting body. She gasps at what she feels, a hot flash of arousal at feeling the evidence of his enjoyment mixing with the tingling sensation following his tongue as he laves her skin of the sweat that has gathered from her activity.

She knows this is wrong, with her men around her in varying states of sobriety (and in some cases, consciousness) but she can't help but push herself back into him, hips swaying in time with the beat. Everyone seems to have developed temporary blindness as to her dalliance with their comman- with the man surrounding her, leading her, drawing her into the music. Her hands come down to grip at his wrists, holding him firm in case he has any inclination to move (from the way his own lower body is following her lead, his fingertips biting into the material of her jeans, she thinks not).

She earns herself a smile from the mouth pressed to her when she leans back against his chest, tilting her head to one side to aid his endeavour. They're barely moving now, and his tongue traces over the skin beneath his mouth before nipping and sucking. She moans, a low rumble that makes him chuckle, gripping her ever harder.

When the song changes he melts away, back into the crowd, leaving her panting, aching, _needing_ in the middle of the dancefloor.

She suspects, if she were to follow she will be met with forced ignorance, a pretending that he has no idea what she's proposing, or the reason why. And she supposes that it's for the best, neither need the distraction right now. His actions were the product of frustration, same as hers, an indication that he is not averse to exploring whatever it is between them when the time is right.

She can live with that promise.

**Dissonance**

_2143_

It's funny the things she remembers about the night.

It's one that sneaks up on her without much warning (though Nathaniel has confided enough in her to know it's an inevitability) on a night when she has plans for little other than a glass of wine and some soothing music.

She knows exactly what awaits her when the knock at her door comes, stilted, heavy, reeking of uncertainty. Opens the door to find a broken man, displaying none of the outward signs she would normally use to determine this; no blood, no dirt. But there is no way to describe this man other than _broken_. 

She doesn't remember the words he speaks, not really. Remembers only the way her heart constricts more at every sentence, how the life fades out of him to leave him hunched in her doorway, illuminated by the moonlight so that he cuts an oddly morbid figure. It's this that prompts her to gently take his hand and pull him into the unit, shutting the door behind him in an blind attempt to close out the evils of the world.

He cuts a pathetic figure where he stands against her counter, words less easy now after his initial confessions. There's an air about him that suggests he considers himself alone, cut-off; that even she was a chance he shouldn't have taken, a visit to a comfort he doesn't deserve. It's a challenge even if he doesn't mean it to be, something that Alicia will not back down from. 

When she closes the distance between them he finally looks up, eyes clouded with emotion, unshed tears. She gently takes his face in her hands and brings their mouths together, taking a chance that has never seemed more dangerous yet all the while more _needed_. His lips gently respond to her after a moment's pause and she pulls back to find his eyes closed, one lone track of wetness down his cheek, rubbed away easily by her thumb.

She remembers fetching him a drink, watching the tension... if not fade, then be controlled, his emotions becoming something he can once again handle with her support. Doesn't recall their ensuing conversation beyond the fact that it's apparently enough to make him initiate their next embrace, his lips more forceful against her, his weight a welcome presence over her own body.

The rest plays out in startlingly clarity; every touch, every sound catalogued in her head in fear of this being a one time thing. It's as heartbreakingly passionate as two broken souls can manage; a way to mend their hurts through whispered oaths and tears, to give a sense of _belonging_ and remove their inherent loneliness. Not a perfect first time by anyone's standards but for them it works, the look of gratitude and, maybe, _love_ on his face as he wraps her up in his warmth and draws her into sleep saying everything she still needs to hear.

And all the time the music plays.

~

_2146_

It's the same lilting melody that draws her out of sleep three years later. She smiles at the better memories coming to the forefront of her mind before she recognises the burning pain at her temples, the ache in her eyes, the stiffness of her body. She cautiously turns her attention to the side of the room from which the music is coming, finds Nathaniel hunched over the edge of her biobed.

"Nathaniel?" She calls softly, feels her heart constrict at the pain-tainted hope in his stormy blue eyes.

"Alicia." He breathes. Swallows heavily, taking one of her hands in both of his. "Thank god. I was starting to think..."

"What happened?" She croaks, clearing her throat before trying again. "I don't... it's all a blur."

"You and Curran went out to investigate reports of a disturbance near outpost four. Turned out to be a trap, landing you in confrontation with a Carno lured far out of its hunting grounds." He pauses to collect himself, brings her hand to his lips.

"A trap? Who would...?" She trails off as Nathaniel winces, looks away from her almost guiltily and she knows without him even having to say. "Lucas."

He nods. Doesn't apologise, can't find the words to explain why his son acts the way he does, can't find the words for why he still loves him, regardless.

"Malcolm's still working on how he did it. But it pushed your rover over a cliff, knocked you out cold. Curran had to carry you back here on foot... You've been unconscious ever since."

She winces, rubbing a hand over her forehead, feeling the bandage there. "How long was I out?"

"Four days." He says quietly.

Despite the throbbing in her head the soldier in her baulks at having shirked her duties for so long and she's filled with a desire to shoot out of the bed and get to work. Before she can move Nathaniel's hand is on her shoulder, pinning her down, knowing her too well after so many years.

She lets him still her, his resulting smile warms her almost as much as the lingering kiss he presses to her palm.

"What's with the music?"

"Doc thought something familiar might bring you back to us... to _me_." He pauses, looking almost uncertain about his choice. "It was the first thing that came to mind."

It feels strange to her that she can't remember the mission that landed her in the infirmary, yet the memory of the press of sofa cushions to her back, the strength of his hands on her, the feeling of him inside her as moisture gathers where his face is buried in her neck... All of those are as clear as day with the assistance of the simple vocals, gentle notes of the music her lover has chosen. 

Alicia eases herself into a seated position with his help, swings her legs until they hang over the edge of the bed. She takes Nathaniel's face in her hands, looking down at him slightly and still seeing the uncertainty warring in the depths of his eyes. "I will always be here with you." She says softly. "Nothing and _no one_ will keep us apart. It make take a while..." She smiles, smooths a thumb over his cheek. "But I will come back."

The only answer he can manage is a firm, demanding kiss, one that makes her head spin in a way that has nothing to do with the concussion.

**Harmony**

_2148_

It's late, the majority of colonists have gone home and Alicia has had a hell of a day. But still her feet draw her up to Command, to the man she hasn't seen all day, the man who wasn't in her bed when she awoke that morning.

There's music playing when she reaches the door, just loud enough to be heard if you stopped and listened for it. She pushes open the door and the extra volume helps her determine the artist, recognise the song. She finds Nathaniel at his desk, looking at a plex while his computer plays music for him to work to.

"The Beatles sir?" She asks with a smile, sees the muted pleasure on his face when he looks up to see her.

He shrugs (a little abashed maybe?) and smiles slightly. "Can't beat the classics."

She shakes her head as the next track starts, one of their later songs. She hadn't realised he was such a fan. "If we're talking British, I would have thought the Stones would be more your style."

His eyebrow raises, impressed. But the look fades quickly. "The Beatles were one of Ayani's favourites."

And just like that it hits her, like a lightning strike. 

Ten years.

It's _ten years_ exactly since that day in Somalia, when she was riddled with bullets and left for dead and he was forced to make an impossible choice. She wonders, sometimes, if it could have been any better for her to be there. If she could have helped, changed things. It's a foolish thought – the only thing that would have happened if she had been there would have been her heart breaking as thoroughly as her commander's.

That doesn't change the fact that she forgot. Despite everything, she forgot the significance of the day. Nathaniel does not have the luxury of forgetting.

"I'm sorry." She breathes, inching closer to him. "I should have remembered." Her forehead creases as she reaches the desk, skirts around it to sit on its edge facing him. "...I don't know why I didn't."

Nathaniel shakes his head. "Don't. Don't apologise. I'd rather at least one of us was free of... this."

The song changes as they sit in silence, his hand resting on her thigh. She tangles their fingers together and tugs as she stands, drawing him to his feet also. It takes a moment for his arms to encircle her in response to hers looping around his neck, but his hands settle on her lower back once she rests her head against his chest and starts to move in time to the slower beat of the song.

"It's been a hell of a ten years." He says, voice husky with emotion. Trying to hold it together – for her benefit or his, she isn't sure.

"That it has." She murmurs.

His hands on her turn harsh, clutching at her as they stand, barely moving now to the tune playing in the background. "I still miss her so goddamn much, Wash." Hot breath against her ear accompanies the rush of words, grief still present after all these years.

"I know sir." Alicia sighs, a heavy exhale. "So do I."

~

_2150_

He promises not to make the same mistake twice, once he gets her back. Will not live with the thought that the woman in his life can feel anything less than the full force of his love for her, counts her return to him as a second (third, fourth) chance.

It overwhelms her a little at first, if she's honest. But he does learn, very quickly, that no matter his own feelings on the matter... she _died_. It's an understatement to say it takes time to get over something like that. She needs things to go slowly.

It's six months after her return, five since her reclamation of her position as his second and three after they decide she should really just move in with him to aid the housing shortage (Mark and Maddy are top of the list for the next unit to become available and she gets _really_ sick of his puppy dog eyes _really_ quickly) that he finally proposes. It still manages to come as a surprise – and the method of his asking is... unconventional – but he is _very_ convincing. She says yes.

They marry quietly, with just the chaplain, Jim and Elisabeth, Guz and Malcolm the only people who have any idea it takes place. It's a conscious decision to let the news break slowly, to quietly change their records and wear their rings on their tags until they themselves are used to the idea. A moment of selfishness that both revel in – so much of their lives is lived for the benefit of others. This is _theirs_.

But Alicia gets antsy. Nathaniel teases her about it, catches her watching newlyweds with envy as they are congratulated in the street. While everyone in the colony is now well aware they are together, no one knows to what degree. She is _proud_ of having his love and decides a month after their wedding is quite long enough to begin easing its path to becoming public knowledge.

They plan exactly how to reveal it with military precision (Jim would tease the _hell_ out of her if he knew). Decide that, as the Harvest Festival is around the corner, that is the day they will slip their rings off of their tags and wear them with pride for all to see.

Jim, bless him, must sense something is up because he commandeers her for the first dance after Nathaniel's speech. She's close by during it, hears the murmurs as people in the front row catch sight of the shining gold on his ring finger, sees as they strain to look at her own hand to confirm their suspicions. But before she can approach her husband and demand a dance, the sheriff has an arm around her waist and is drawing her into the crowd.

Jim smiles when he feels the cool metal of her wedding band as he takes her hand. "Is this your 'coming out' party?"

Alicia snorts. "You could put it that way, Shannon."

"About damn time." He murmurs, twirling her with particular ease to the jaunty tune.

She scoffs, tries to deny that she enjoys the easy way he moves her but there's something safe about being in this man's arms, a feeling that she's not able to shake no matter how much of a pain in the ass he is. "I'm terribly sorry we didn't consult you on the schedule of letting people know about _our_ marriage."

Jim sniffs haughtily. "That's fine. I'm only _slightly_ torn up inside."

She laughs at this, smacks his shoulder with the hand resting there, tightens her grip with the other. He grins, lets his hand slip teasingly lower on her back until she stomps on his instep and sends him biting back a yelp of pain. When the song changes to something slower his grin melts into a smirk as he pulls her closer, tucks her under his chin and sways them gently in time to the beat.

"Shannon." She bites out. Can't deny the way her arms fall around him easily despite her annoyance.

"Yes Wash?" He whispers seriously, but the laughter is just barely kept out of his voice.

"Wasn't aware it was you I married." She responds.

He sighs heavily, as if very very sad for her. "Only in your dreams."

Her laughter rings out through the crowd, draws her husband over from where he was dancing with Elisabeth.

"May I cut in?" He asks, aware that most everyone's eyes are on the three of them.

"Commander." Jim greets, doesn't step back. "Wash and I were getting along quite nicely, so if you don't mind..."

Nathaniel growls. "Shannon..."

The sheriff laughs, steps back from Alicia and look at her with a broad smile. "You know where I am if you get tired of the old ball and chain."

A hearty (perhaps _too_ hearty) slap to his shoulder sees Jim on his way, and she melts into the strong form of Nathaniel without hesitation. The song – something slow, beautiful, played on guitars – sends her even more mellow in his arms, the feeling of _home_ filling her soul with happiness.

"I love you." She says quietly.

Very carefully, he brings her left hand to his lips and kisses her fingers, knows that their audience won't miss the significance of the glint of metal picked up by the spotlights. With a smile that looks about two steps away from smug satisfaction, he replies. "I love you too."


End file.
